


Blood on Gold

by The_Iron_Wolf_of_Winterfell



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, if you like dark romances with eldritch entities boy you are in for a treat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:45:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14020536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Iron_Wolf_of_Winterfell/pseuds/The_Iron_Wolf_of_Winterfell
Summary: The young voivode Vladimir Dragulescu upon the death of his mother, decides to summon an Ancient Entity to carry his desire for revenge but ends up falling in love for such Being.





	Blood on Gold

“ **I**. _To the innocuous reader, beware before summoning an Ancient Entity. If not dealt with extreme precaution, the summoner may be consumed by these powerful Gods as a sacrifice._  
They are the void, They feed on light and blood and nothing else there is to Them.” – **Iuretis in Profundis**  
  
  
For long he had deeply delved into such dark subject for the Romanian voivode was well aware of the implications of dealing with magic, as his family had been bearers of such talent since their line began centuries ago.  
In order to preserve his household legacy as well as to learn how to protect himself from his own raw powers, the lessons he had to attend every day and the infinite books that he had to read concerning several subjects from the metaphysical world to botany during his childhood were still well carved onto his memory.   
  
“ _Leave a token when collecting dirt from hallowed grounds in order to appease the spirits_.”  
  
“ _Wolfsbane is never to be eaten_.”  
  
“ _Mixing ingredients on potions to make them change colour not only is extremely dangerous but also wasteful. The mere fact that you accidently managed to make an invisibility potion with such method does not invalidate safety procedures_.”  
  
“ _Invisibility potions are not to be used to play pranks on incautious priests_.”  
  
But perhaps the most important lesson he ever learnt, even if he was not aware of such at the time, was the dangers of fear.  
  
“ _Learn about fear Vladimir._  
  
For the fear of the unknown, the strange, the peculiar, the bizarre is a primitive force which inhabits in the depths of every human being.  
Witchcraft tries, apart from many other things, to understand the unknown, to gaze upon its eyes that lie beyond the veil of the trans mundane and control the terror that lives within us.  
  
The common folk never got through their fear and they seek to destroy what they cannot understand, what goes against their normality, whatever that is.  
  
This family is a source of fear for them, their intolerance to the different will be your enemy my young lord, be wary.”  
  
  
Ah but youth is often affected by a certain disdain for life advices which caused him to dismiss such valuable lesson until much later in life, when the rumors about him and his family started running through the surrounding villages.  
Mere whispers in the dark at first that slowly but dangerously started to grow like a deadly plague, bound to bring death and sorrow. Each word as a coffin nail.  
That wretched woman and her kin, creatures of the night no doubt, snatching children away from their beds to feed on their vital fluids and young maidens perishing on their arms to become their unholy slaves.  
They come when the moon is high and all demons are released from hell.  
  
Time passed, years went by and Vladimir, who had grown into a most sarcastic young man with an acute brilliance and even sharper sense of humour, marveled with such dark tales surrounding himself and his family, oh how entertaining they were!  
And nothing would amuse him more than to embellish such stories by adding excruciating details to the narrative in order to make them sound as plausible as possible.  
Granted, he would not hurt a soul. If anything, he had a kind heart despite his devious outbursts, but the need to be infamous on the mouths of others truly was his opium.  
  


How could his tale of sorrow and devotion begin if not with a rumour, his curiosity had been stirred as well as his terrible desire to see his need for revenge finally quenched.  
Rumours are deadly things are they not? Yes, quite so, they whisper and whisper until someone lies dead on the ground. Vladimir would often reminiscence on such fact bearing such a bloody grin, his fury growing day by day.  
The peasants after a while began to whisper that the young voivode was summoning unholy creatures from Hell on which he would be their leader. No doubt that he was about to retaliate for what happened a year ago.  


* * *

On a dark wooden throne heavily decorated with multiple arabesques that culminated, as if a crown upon his head, the Dragulescu's family crest.  
A formidable dragon with terrible gleaming eyes of gold, watched over his lord so imperiously sitting while hearing the news from one of his oldest servants wearing a tender smile on his lips.  
  
Still the man dared not gazing upon his young lord while reporting what he had learnt, he could feel Vladimir's baleful carmine gaze and his smile turning into a famine grin as each word was proffered.  
Silence fell on the grand hall, such deadly lethargy, even the wind that so gracefully entered through the open windows bearing the scent of moist soil and pinewood, respectfully hushed his murmurs when Vladimir rose from his seat.  
His low chuckle echoed softly at last.  
  
" _I see. You did well Răzvan, thank you_."  
  
The old servant once again bowed respectfully and immediately prepared to leave, he bare not to see Vladimir in such state. How that tragedy had changed him, his mourning gained the shape of chaos.  
  
As Răzvan left, Vladimir started to walk along the hall still chuckling, oh what a delicious idea!  
  
" _Andrei_." - Vladimir said without looking behind, knowing that his younger brother would now peek behind the throne where he was peacefully reading, for Vladimir did not allowed him to be alone for long periods of time - " _Walk with me._ "  
  
A shuffling sound was heard and then light steps. A small child's head quickly appeared next to Vladimir and he promptly petted his soft dark hair.  
  
If Vladimir had transformed himself into a vessel for rage and bloodlust, Andrei had become a fortress of solemnity.  
  
“ _I don't understand what's so funny about the situation for you to be laughing. You act as if this doesn't affect you._ ” - the child inquired slightly frowning both in confusion and dread. For he knew his brother and a terrible plot was already being formed for sure.  
  
“ _Oh my little one tell me, why should I be bothered with such rumors?"_  
  
"You still ask? Rumours were what caused the death-"  
  
"Indeed." - Vladimir interrupted Andrei upon hearing such word _\- "They caused a death. And for that death they will pay dearly. But at the same time, I am honored. At last I have been set free from the title of vampire lord, now I am the Devil Himself to them. I believe that congratulations are in order for their excellent progress._ ”  
  
The small boy sighed reluctantly, trying to unveil the meaning of his brother's expression.  
The more Andrei observed the more confused and apprehensive he would get, it seemed that Vladimir was hiding something and he was immensely pleased with his little secret. Oh the child would not even dare to assume such a terrible thing, surely the rumours could not be true. Vladimir had the ability to summon trivial things such as animals but never- No, impossible.  
  
He would undoubtedly find his next entertainment in summoning something harmless as soon as he had sure that some people were around, so the rumor could spread as fast as possible and nothing more.  
  
Still his brother's reckless behavior afflicted him, Andrei feared that the constant search for deadly situations would, sooner or later, gravely harm Vladimir.  
  
“ _Mom wouldn’t approve this… I’m sure of it_ …” – Andrei muttered without thinking fully aware that he was walking through a dangerous path if Vladimir heard him.  
  
Oh but he did and as a result, Vladimir’s smile diminished almost instantly.  Their mother, such sweet soul, laid now cold and dead on the burial ground near the old church.  
Just a year ago she had been slain by the cruelty of men, after all his lessons did warned him for such dangers.  
Those wretched monsters had hired a High Witch Hunter to slay her, after all meek peasants would not be able to defeat the Devil’s whore, she would have to burn miserably on holy fire, the skin melting and her hair turning to ash.  
  
Vladimir had to run away with Andrei on his arms or they would be next, their mother gave her life to protect them but as the weakling child that Vladimir was, he was not able to defend her.  
That grave covered now his greatest regret.  
Anger and rancor grew on his heart as vicious creatures that would bite him at every living second of his existence, such was the curse of the young voivode.  
But how could he risk an open war with the inhabitants of the region as his defenses were weakened as he was forced to run deep into the heart of the mountains where no one dared to venture, to an old castle with the few living servants that he had left.  
And above all, Andrei should be protected at all costs.  
  
Without any chance to strike back for his loss for now, what better way then, than play with Death itself in order to drown his grief?  
  
“ _Mother’s not here anymore Andrei._ ”

* * *

These Old Gods were greedy, on such aspect They were exactly like the humans although blessed with a much higher petulance and self-awareness of Their own powers. They would not bend to the whims of a mere voivode just because he had some abilities in the field of witchcraft. Not at least without receiving something in return.  
  
That much Vladimir was well aware of, he needed something appealing enough to trade. Gold would prove to be useless for his intent, it had no value to the Entity he was trying to summon. A pretty trinket but nothing else.  
It should be something precious to him.  
  
Night after night he studied on his family’s old library, built on dark caves deep into the heart of the mountains away from prying eyes, about these Old Gods.  
Ancient scholars upon conducting several studies determined that the parallel on which these Ancient Entities lived was divided into two regions that were baptized with the names of Outer Sanctum and Inner Sanctum.  
It had been observed that an Ancient Entity that inhabits on the Outer Sanctum was much more active than Their siblings on the Inner Sanctum, thus being much more prone to make visits to the human world and to be contacted.  
The Entity that Vladimir wished to summon though, was kept in slumber deep into the Inner Sanctum and only under very specific circumstances could be awaken.  
  
  
Days became weeks and weeks became months until, at last, Vladimir found the answer that he so feverishly searched for so long.  
He shivered in a pure twisted delight upon his discovery.  
  
_Haemophili Animus._  
The cursed name of such dark ritual demanded the blood of the one who performed it. The Ancient Entity in question was gluttonous, it would demand to be fed often and it should not be crossed or else a fate worse than death would await their summoner.  
His blood would become a trading coin for the revenge he sought for so long.  
The summoning itself did not imposed much difficulty, the real challenge lied upon convincing the Entity to heed his plea as it was known that no such Being was known for Their generosity and benevolence. As far as They were concerned, nothing prevented Them from consuming his life essence once he set foot on the Inner Sanctum.  
Gently, Vladimir caressed the moldy book pages with his fingertips. Such pugnacious Entity would surely be magnificent.  
  
A furious battle had been disputed for quite a while between an engulfing darkness and a small bright candle that so loyally accompanied the voivode during his long research but it seemed that the dark beast was at last gaining the upper hand, white waxy blood was sluggishly spilling from the wooden table to the cold ground and its life was at an end.  
Vladimir was a negligent spectator of such massacre as his attention was drawn to the outside. From a small stone carved window he noticed how the snow had ceased to fall and in the deep night, a deadly silence had settled amongst nature.  
  
_As if it was waiting to be disturbed_.  
  
He gathered his materials with a most satisfied expression, it seemed that an eternity had passed since the last time such smile blessed his countenance, and he stepped outside.  
  
  
  
Amongst fog and cold he started. He carved his blade on his palm and as he started his wicked chanting, trying not to laugh between words in amusement, pain and fear, the night seemed to scream in despair along with him in the forest.  
Cursed gusts be ever so merciful, may they carry his incantation and voice far away, deep into the villagers’ hearts.  
  
_Shiver. Tremble. The house of Dragulescu will have its revenge._                       

* * *

  
_Poor offering my lord, you should have spilt your entrails for me. I’ll have you, I’ll savour you._  
  
  
Dawn rose slowly and feebly on that Christmas day, werewolves’ day. Crimson snow shone blazingly around his collapsed body, his blood dripped languidly from his hand.  
The shrilling weeping of a lapwing brought Vladimir to his senses, the animal’s screeches would not cease.  
He at last he opened his eyes with a terrible difficulty, after he had plunged into the deepest darkness, any sort of brightness was almost unbearable for him to look upon.  
He could not recall with exactitude what had happened last night.  
  
\- _You survived after all_. – the coldest of voices spoke from everywhere. Up from the skies, down from the ground, around his sapped body, inside his blurred mind. From all around, Vladimir felt himself being enveloped by it. – _Now you don’t sound as confident, do you?_  
  
Not so gently he was grabbed by his shoulder and raised up from the ground and sat down.  
The light was a blur the only thing he could see was gold on blood. Long pale hair contrasting with a cruel red mouth. And eyes as dark as the void, matching a raven-feathered long attire.  
Very beautiful and very deadly, the appearance of a fairy tale princess that caused wars for her exquisiteness, but this one would smile delighted with all the bloodlust.  
  
\- _For a witch you are not as interesting as I thought you would be_. – the creature spoke again with an otherworldly voice that resembled a hissing. They sighed disappointed. - _Do get up will you? I am extremely bored waiting for you to wake up_.  
  
The voivode tried to blurt anything in return but his tongue curled uncomfortably. Gently and shivering he rose his bloodied hand and attempted to move it but a sharp pain caused him to flinch.  
  
\- _Your deal has been accepted Vladimir Dragulescu_. – he looked at the one who spoke to him. They were knelt next to him. Such presence seemed to defy all the natural laws but They seemed very nonchalant concerning such fact – _That is your name, is it not_?  
  
\- I… I did it?... You’re…  
  
\- _Have you not tried to summon my kind_? _One of the… Ancients_ , _as you named us_? – the answer came as questions posed in a very impatient tone – _Well then, here I am. I do not wish to stay here all day with you staring at me with such a dazed expression. What do you want from me_?  
  
  
\- I hardly remember anything… - he ended up answering incredulously.  
  
\- _I have accepted your offer_ , _therefore you shall feed me with your blood whenever I wish to according to the agreement._ – the voracious Ancient One, as fair as angel reached for Vladimir’s wounded hand and mercilessly sucked the blood from his palm causing him to hiss half in pain half in delight. Rabid as a ferocious animal. At last Their eyes met his, Their pretty mouth red and dripping but oh always so lovely as They sneered, lips still rubbing his laceration, tip of the tongue teasing – _This is mine now._  
  
The Ancient One learnt there that the voivode was mischievous, such smile was devoid of innocence. Slowly They licked the wound again as Vladimir moaned lowly. There was an undone rawness on his blood, an absolute relish to Their mouth.  
  
\- All yours. Feast day and night as you please. – he ended up answering deviously, grabbing Their hand and kissing it courteously - Do you have a name?  
  
They stared Vladimir in confusion, not only because of his strange gesture with his mouth upon Their hand but also for posing such bizarre question. Why would be Their name important for him to learn?  
  
\- _Your language cannot reproduce it_.  
  
\- Then, with your permission my fairest One, I’ll give you one. Today is Christmas day so… Natalia. My wolf of vengeance. - staggering, Vladimir managed to rise but never lost his smile. Then he cordially extended his arm to Them so They could hold it – Come now, I’ll take you home. Soon you'll understand why I need you.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly working on this for so long (like 1 year) that I've lost all the sense of quality but I've decided to divide it in short chapters since this is supposed to be a short story. What can I say it's RomBela therefore, something good must come out of this I hope.
> 
> Thank you for reading and if you want to leave feedback it would be appreciated as it would help me to move along with the rest of the story.


End file.
